Chapter Four

A cherry red 1967 Chevy Impala pulled up to the drive through window. "Burger, large fries, and a large diet Coke," Dean ordered. On the seat beside him, the headline of the newspaper read "Mysterious 60-Foot Crater Appears in Small Florida Town; Meteor Blamed." On top of the newspaper sat his father's journal.

Meteor my ass, Dean thought. That was the same town his father had investigated twenty-five years ago, that now had a string of mysterious murders. The events had to be connected somehow, and he was going to figure out how. His father had been looking for a wendigo and found it. The wendigo had gone to jail for murder and gotten the chair. But why were there murders now, and why the meteor? It was very strange that the meteor had appeared on the twenty-fifth anniversary of his father's arrival in the town.

If Sam was here, perhaps he would have seen it happening in his head. If wishes were dimes, Dean would be rich. He pulled up to the window and paid for his order in cash. He never used credit cards anymore. He didn't trust the government, not since Dean had been framed for a bank robbery he didn't commit. The shape shifter had taken his face and vanished. The cops assumed he had done it. He'd had to quit his job as a roofer. Carrie had left him and taken the baby. All hell had broken loose in Dean's life since Sam's death.

He drove away from the burger joint and back onto Highway 75. It was afternoon and the sun was shining rather brightly, but there were a few dark clouds in the distance. Smoke on the Water came on the radio. 40 miles left to go.

Sam approached the red house on Half Moon lane. It was made of bricks. There were white lace curtains on the windows and colorful tulips perfectly lined up in front of the house. He rang the doorbell. An elderly Japanese woman wearing a navy blue dress opened the door. She had a single pearl on a silver chain around her neck. "Hello?" Her eyes widened as she saw him. "Oni!" she gasped and made a move to shut the door.

"Wait," Sam said, only understanding the general gist of her reaction and not the specific word. "Your daughter sent me."

The woman looked surprised. "She is a fool, then."

"Please. My name is Sam. I'm trying to help the police solve the murders." He held up the mirror. "Can you tell me anything about this?"

"You are an evil spirit. I will tell you nothing." Chikako began to close the door again.

Sam put his foot in the door. "Wait, you don't understand."

"I understand more than you think."

"No," Sam said. He glanced around quickly to make sure that no one was watching. His red wings shimmered into view. "I'm not what you think. I'm not an evil spirit."

Her eyes widened again. "How is this possible? Your aura is fire. Just fire. How can you have wings of a tenshi? Why do you come here?"

He was trying to figure out how much English she understood. Clearly she understood enough to get by. "Magic," he said. "It was accidental, I think, but hard to know for sure. I'm stuck here."

She relented. "Don't make me regret this." She took a step backward and opened the door. "Come in."

Sam's wings vanished as he stepped in. Was she a psychic human, or something else? The house was decorated with a mish-mash of Japanese art and American culture from the 1960's. A painting of Marilyn Monroe was placed over the sofa in the living room, and a collage of Beetles album covers decorated the far wall. A painting of a dragon and phoenix hung on the opposite wall, as well as a few colorful fans.

"Thank you," he said.

"My daughter has good instincts normally, but she is still young. Let me see your mirror."

He held it out, and she took it.

Chikako studied it for a few moments, turning it over and examining the back. "This is very old. At least 200 years, perhaps more."

"Is it magical?"

"No, but it is a valuable antique. This was used in a ritual. It has the sort of aura that powerful magic gives off, yet the magic does not come from within the mirror itself."

"What sort of rituals would use mirrors?" he asked.

"A beauty spell or scrying, perhaps, but you already know that, don't you?" she inquired.

He nodded.

"It might have been used in a curse, but it is not broken," she said.

"What about summoning?"

"Ah…now that is a possibility. There are not many creatures that can be summoned with a mirror," Chikako explained.

"Can you tell me what can?" he asked.

"Hmm, let me think. There are some ghosts that can be summoned that way. Also, there are djinn."

"What, like in I Dream of Jeannie?" he inquired.

She gave him a look. "Hollywood does not do justice to them. They are not just some creatures that can be summoned from a lamp to grant three wishes. No, there are many more kinds of djinn. Fire djinn, water djinn, shape shifting djinn…"

"Shape shifting?" Sam asked.

"Yes. They are usually tricksters," she replied.

"Can they be controlled?"

"Only by a very powerful magician," Chikako answered. "Think of trying to control Loki."

Sam nodded. "I've met him. Well, sort of."

"You are certainly not what you seem. This is not the only reason why you are here, is it?" she asked.

"No. I need a way to get back home," he said.

She looked thoughtful. "Crossing between the worlds takes very powerful magic. I have only done it once, to flee my homeland with my baby daughter. I had to leave my human husband behind. You see, I am kitsune."

Sam's jaw dropped. He had heard the legends as a hunter, but never had met one. If she had that kind of power, she must be very old indeed.

"Now you understand," she said. "Good. You have great power, Sam. I could help you learn how to use it better."

"I just want to go home," he responded.

"Do you?" She peered into his eyes. "You are beginning to like it here, aren't you?"

"Maybe, but my place is home, with my brother."

"Is he like you?" she asked.

"No. He's human. I can't stay in this world very long, anyway. The other me is dead here."

She nodded. "All right. Find the killer, and I will send you home."

Dean parked the cherry red Impala at a small hotel. It was old and painted pink, but the price was right, only $25 a night. He seriously hoped there weren't any lice in the beds. There was something odd about the front desk clerk, he noticed right away. Not only was she wearing sunglasses indoors, but she dressed much older than she appeared. Also, she had slightly pointed ears. He figured she was a supe of some kind, but was she the kind that would kill him?

"Hello, I'm looking for a room." He handed her cash.

"Of course," she said with a soft European accent. He could not identify the country. "You may have room 212, right next to the other gentleman who arrived here early this morning."

"Oh?"

"Yes. It is a little unusual for us to have so many out of town guests," she said.

Something was niggling at Dean. "What did he look like?"

"He was very tall with dark hair and an extremely torn up T-shirt. There were a few scars on his back. He also looked young, perhaps in his late 20's. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering," Dean said.

"Please sign here," said the woman, handing him the book.

Sure enough, on the top line, was the name Sam Winchester. Dean's eyes widened. No, it couldn't be. Could it? How was that even possible?

"Is everything all right?" the woman asked.

"Uh…yeah." Dean signed the book hastily and handed it back.

"Winchester? Are you related?"

He gave a nervous laugh. "I don't think so. My brother's dead."

The woman raised an eyebrow. "I see. This way, please." She led him up the stairs.

Sam teleported away from the kitsune's house and back to the hotel room. Angelic powers had their benefits. As he stood next to the bed, something outside caught his eye. He peered out the window. There was a 1967 cherry red Impala in the parking lot. Could it be? Yes, it was. He would know that car anywhere, in any universe, with any paint job. Dean was here, and that wasn't a good thing.

There were footsteps in the hallway. Sam froze.

"Right this way, sir," Isabelle said.

"Thanks," Sam heard Dean say.

The door next to his opened and closed. Isabelle walked down the stairs. A few minutes later, there was a knock on his door.

"Sam? Sammy, is that really you in there? Please, I just want to talk to you again."

Swallowing his trepidation, Sam walked to the door and opened it. Dean's jaw dropped.

"My God, it is you. How is this possible? Are you a vampire or something?"

"Listen to me," Sam began. "I am not your Sam."

Dean stared. "What?"

"This sounds extremely crazy, but I am Sam Winchester. I'm just from another universe."

Dean shook his head. "I don't care. You're alive and you're Sam. That's all I care about."

"Dean…I can't stay here. I have to go back there. You don't understand. We were fighting these huge…evil bad things…leviathans."

"I don't even know what those are."

"Do you even hunt in this universe?" Sam asked.

"Yes."

"Okay. Leviathans are bad ass. They're ancient. They're older than God. He couldn't kill them, so Purgatory was created to trap them. This friend of ours, an angel, let them out."

"Wait, angels exist?"

Sam nodded. "Cas is sort of fallen, but he's on our side. Anyway, he let them out because he had this crazy plan to become God, but he completely failed at it and the Leviathans escaped. We wound up having to clean up the mess. Somehow in the process of cleaning up the mess, we found the real God, and well…it's kind of a long story."

Dean held up his hand. "We did kick the Leviathans' asses, right?"

"Yeah. You had the lightning bolt of Zeus, and Cas had the Orb of Seven Stars, and I…hmmm…this might not be the best time to tell you."

"Tell me what?"

The air around Sam shimmered and his red wings materialized. "I'm not exactly human anymore, Dean. I have powers."

Dean took a step back. "Woah. How…?"

"Let's just say Chuck did a little creative writing."

"Who's Chuck?" Dean asked.

"Never mind," Sam said.

"Are you an angel? Did you die?" Dean asked.

"Partly, and yes, but that's not how I became…this. You and I have both died, more than once, apparently. But we keep being brought back," Sam explained.

"I don't remember dying."

"I'm guessing you haven't been to Hell yet?" Sam inquired.

"We stopped the apocalypse, but your psychic powers were increasing, even though we killed that yellow-eyed bastard. You couldn't take seeing dead people anymore. That's why you shot yourself. Missouri tried to help you, but even she couldn't. Your abilities were too strong for her to shield you."

Sam shook his head. "I'm sorry the other me did that. In my world, stopping the demon ended the visions. But then I found out I was still supposed to have abilities, it's just that they were dormant. See, God decided to mess with my DNA. I'm a guinea pig."

"You said you were part angel," Dean noted. "Why are your wings red?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I think it might be…and please don't freak out on me here...because I'm also part demon."

Dean's eyes widened. "No way."

"Yeah. It's a little, uh…freaky even for me."

"So…did you ever find out why?"

"Why what?"

"Why he did that to you?"

"Oh. Well, Chuck wants me to be a sort of go-between. He doesn't think that anyone else can do it, and I already had the demon blood in me from Azazel. So, he decided to take advantage of the situation."

Dean shook his head. "Who's Chuck?"

"Chuck is God's human vessel."

"So, how exactly did you wind up here?" Dean asked.

"Backlash from the angelic weapon Cas used to send the Leviathans back to Purgatory," Sam said.

"Ah. That would explain the crater."

"Yep. Oh, did you know our dad stayed in this room?"

"Really?" Dean inquired.

Sam nodded and showed him the briefcase. "He was investigating a murder 25 years ago. I think it's connected to the murders happening now. I'm working with the cops to try and solve them. Oh…you're not going to like this town very much."

"Why is that?"

"It's sort of a haven for supes."

Dean looked stunned. "What kinds?"

"Relax, Dean. They have pretty strict rules around here. The vamps are the Twilight vegetarian sort, and the weres only hunt deer. Oh, and there are a few other different kinds of supes around here. Anyone who harms a human gets banished from the town and is no longer protected."

"What about the murders? Doesn't anyone care about those?"

"It's been all supes who have died, except for one human little girl," Sam replied. "I'm helping the cops try and figure out who did it. I think it was the new people." Sam held up the silver mirror. "I have it on good authority this was used in a ritual. Yet the new people are human. This was the husband's grandmother's mirror."

"Do you think we're dealing with people dabbling in things they shouldn't?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "I noticed a few occult books on their shelves. The wife said she hadn't noticed them. If she's lying, she's doing a very good job."

"We should go back there," Dean said.

"Okay," Sam replied. He put the mirror into his backpack, then put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Ready?"

"For what?" Dean asked.

"There are a few good things to being part angel," Sam replied, and teleported.